


By the Light of the Garden

by ambivalentlangst



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alfor means well okay and so does Coran, Arranged Marriage, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt and comfort, Like, Lotor and Allura are childhood friends, Lotor is NOT HAVING IT, Minor Character Death, Shay is a babe, Shay is the cute gardener and Allura is dead, Zarkon and Honerva are happily married and Good Rulers thank you very MUCH, not even a character who has a speaking part in the show, paladins are mentioned as Allura's guards but they're not a major thing, shayllura, the generals are princesses too ayyyyee, they're gay and have flower crowns it's great, they're so beautiful I'm crying, with a side of angst because what do I ever write without angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:59:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivalentlangst/pseuds/ambivalentlangst
Summary: Allura has a routine, as is expected from the princess of Altea.  However, things are changing around the palace. She's to find someone to give her hand, and if not, well, her father has some picked out. She's seen a million and one suitors come from across the land, but nothing can compare to the toss up a gentle gardener presents, huddled under the embrace of the flowers.





	By the Light of the Garden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spinsters_grave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinsters_grave/gifts).



> Created for VLD Lunar Ladies exchange, for reaadmydumbfanfiction on tumblr and macShitFuck on here, I hope you like it!!! It was a blast to write. :)

Princess Allura had her life very neatly laid out in front of her, and that was the way it had always been. It was easy, simply the way it was done. In the morning she combed through her ivory tresses while her tutors lectured her, and went out for a morning stroll if she was lucky enough to slip away from her paladin guard. Then she ate a lunch made of delicacies meticulously gathered from all corners of the Earth, perhaps with her father if he wasn’t too busy. In the afternoon was embroidery, calligraphy, learning the table manners of Altea’s allies and trying not to tear her hair out in boredom. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful, she wasn’t. Allura was lucky, of that she was acutely aware. Not everybody got the luxury of a closet of ball gowns just waiting to be picked from, or servants waiting on her every need whether it be having her back scratched or fluffing her pillow. She was lucky, but she couldn’t help wondering if there wasn’t more out there for her.

The days slipped by that way, in a seamless overlapping of lessons and speeches and balls, dipped and spun away on the dance floor from foreign ambassadors and suitors alike. Her father was gently insistent. She had to choose somebody to marry. She was getting older now, after all. Allura had no plans to be a complacent queen, but it was necessary to have a spouse to rule with. Her father was willing to let her choose, which Allura was grateful for. Still, she couldn’t stop wondering how long his patience would last as she turned away proposal after proposal. Coran was the first to say something, pausing one of his history lessons while Allura stared out the window of her tower.

“Princess, have you thought about who you might like to marry?” he asked politely, twisting the tip of his mustache around his finger in a well versed motion. Allura had startled, drawing her eyes away from the flowers budding in the gardens below to fix her father’s advisor in her gaze.

“I-well, no. I haven’t. Why do you ask?” she responded, glancing down to her palm and one by one loosening up the fingers that had sunk their nails into the skin there. Coran paced the room, walking to the portrait of her father and her mother. He placed a hand gingerly on the delicate canvas, above her father’s heart.

“Your father is wondering. He has been receiving a bit of inquiry from the neighboring kingdoms, you see. You’ve ignored them all for quite some time now, which is one thing if you have someone you’re interested in. But without-” he spread his hand in an apologetic gesture. Allura sighed.

“Stingy. I’m aware, Coran. Still, I just can’t imagine it. Me, married. To any of those boys?” She laughed a little at the thought, but it was a sort of sad thing. “I can’t see it. I’ve grown up with so many of them, and it’s so utterly odd. They’re not for me.” The older man sighed, scratching at the back of his neck with a few gloved fingers. Allura’s eyes were caught by the action. That was a nervous tic of his, so why was it coming up now?

“I understand, princess. It’s why I was hoping there was someone you’d decided to settle on. Your father has a suitor picked out for you, if you have nobody else in mind.” The idea sent a hot spark of surprise flaring up within the princess, who was on her feet very suddenly.

“Pardon? I thought I was allowed to select my own future, ah, partner?” Coran sighed, shuffling on his feet. He looked no more comfortable with the idea than she.

“You were, but his patience has nearly run dry. You will be engaged to Prince Lotor, if you do not find a love within the next fortnight. I’m sorry, Allura.” The princess’ thoughts raced. Lotor? Her childhood friend, Lotor, who she’d spent more time having mud fights with than having any sort of civilized conversation? She cared for him certainly, but he was no spouse.

“He has agreed to this?” Allura’s voice was thick, choked with the tone of someone who could understand, but still did not consent. She was sure Coran was not enthused about the arrangement, but his familiar features were a blur lost amongst her aimless thoughts.

“Not exactly. His father has been having a similar problem. Honerva cannot talk any sense into him either.” Allura did not bother trying to act pleased. Her previously lax hands had balled back into fists. Would her mother have stopped this, had she still been alive? The idea was painful, and she pushed it away. What a miserable union her and Lotor would have, neither willing to play lover to the other in the game of politics. Her lips had pressed into a thin line.

“Thank you for informing me, Coran. You’re dismissed,” she spoke at last, turning her back to him. The pale man reached out a hand to her, placing it on her shoulder in comfort.

“Allura-” Her answering voice was hard, taut with suppressed rancor.

“I said you were dismissed.” She heard no more from him after that, other than his steady tread walking away and the soft thud of the door being closed. Later she would feel guilty for how she’d spoken, but for now she stripped herself of her dress and crawled under the covers. She did not want to think of it right now, and despite the fact that the sun had only just started to hide being the horizon, sky not even yet turned colors, she drifted off to sleep.

That night she dreamt fitfully, visions of white haired children bearing Lotor’s eyes waking her with a gasp and a hand pressed against her chest in panic. She sat under the duvet for a time, trying to control the too-quick rise and fall of her chest, before sparing a glance out of the window. The moon was full, and she rose out of bed, dragging a blanket with her to cover her should anybody be awake. She threw the window open with very satisfying flourish, bracing herself against the sill to take deep breaths of the night air, allowing it to calm her. Perhaps Lotor would find someone to care for, she thought privately. Maybe he would run way, because heaven knows Allura didn’t have the courage. If nothing else, she had a duty to her people. Still, if Lotor ran away Allura couldn’t help but think of her other options. Her father was kind and in all fairness had given her time aplenty, but she hadn’t done what was needed of her, so he had to take matters into her own hands. Though he was hardly an ideal match through no fault of his own, Lotor was at least a friend. A friend she by no means wanted to marry. To distract her from her own spiraling thoughts, the princess cast her eyes below and couldn’t help but smile. The balmera flowers were beautiful, unfurled and casting a soft glow from their bushes. They had been her mother’s favorite. They presented a sort of calm in the maelstrom of her mind, and a much desired break from everything. It was thinking of the peace they presented that had Allura shedding her blanket, and reaching for her robe instead.

She cinched it tightly at her waist, aware and simultaneously apathetic towards the fact that beneath the simple garb she was stark naked. A minor detail, and she wasn’t planning on seeing anybody too important anyways. No louder than a shadow, she padded towards the door, coaxing it open without a creak. Outside was Lance, one of her five main guards. He often did the night shift, and had once confided in Allura amidst his joking attempts at courting her that seeing the stars outside the window he was stationed by helped him with the homesickness he felt. She knew he knew she was going out, but he didn’t follow her. He was good about that sort of thing, and only offered that clandestine smirk of his he only flashed every once in a while before resuming his position, watching Allura’s pearly locks turn the corner and disappear from view.

She crept outside silently, sticking to the shadows and using servant hallways practically dusty from disuse, ones she knew would be free of any guards. Amongst the starlight and earthy press of the ground between her toes, she felt calmer, her head clear. She straightened up, walking to the center of the garden, where her mother specifically had the flowers planted to fully surround someone, to be alone in the night. She remembered the days before she fell ill, huddled into her skirts while she showed her the constellations. The memory brought a smile to her face, as she lowered herself onto the bench amongst the flora. Her lithe fingers ran over the intricate engravings set in it, feeling her way along familiar carvings amongst the sapphire light of the petals. Allura was at ease amongst the garden in her memories, until a tentative voice perforated the silence the princess had come to find.

“Oh! Excuse me, I didn’t realize somebody was here. I’ll just--wait, princess?” Allura’s head snapped up towards the cause of the disturbance, fast enough to create a hard gnarl of soreness that would be bothersome later. For the moment however, she stared at the peasant girl who looked as beautiful as the flowers she cultivated, if the shears and watering can in her hand were any indication.

She was broad shouldered, arms knotted with muscle that flowed as naturally as petals from the center of the balmera. Her features were full and her face a solidly round heart, topaz eyes framed with lashes so long they seemed to almost brush her cheeks as she blinked in disbelief. Her dark, voluminous hair fell against her jaw in a sharp crop, matching the thickness of the stone cut hoops dangling from her ears. Allura felt her breath leave her in one sharp rush, and when she finally remembered to take more in she ended up coughing from how foreign the mundane action felt. The angel in human form hurried over, dropping her tools and placing a wide, warm hand on Allura’s back to steady her while her thick eyebrows bunched together in concern.

“Oh my goodness, are you okay princess?” Allura nodded, holding up a hand to signal she just needed a moment.

“Fine. Sorry, you took me off guard.” The gardener rubbed her back soothingly, and Allura found herself enjoying the kindness and grounding weight of the action.

“My apologies, your Highness. I’m not used to finding anyone here this late. It’s usually me, since I have to come late to tend to the balmera.” Allura waved her off, the cordial smile she normally wore for outings amongst the people fixed firmly in place. She was a princess for crying out loud, she should be unruffled by the confrontation.

“Not to worry. It’s not like I publicized my outing. I just needed some of the night air, and the flowers are, ah, a sort of calming presence to me, I suppose. What’s your name, if I may ask?” The gardener drew back, appearing a little embarrassed as she rubbed her dirt stained hands on her skirt.

“Shay, your Highness. Excuse my intrusion, I’ll leave you in peace,” she offered quickly, crossing the distance between the bench and where she left her supplies in two long strides. Allura was not a fan of that idea.

“Oh, wait! You don’t have to leave. You’re just doing your job. I don’t mind,” she explained, rising to her feet. The gardener looked conflicted, but in the end seemed to agree.

“If it’s not a nuisance to you, your Highness,” she replied at last. Allura shook her head, her long and full locks rippling like water from a fall.

“Allura is just fine.” Her iridescent eyes looked to Shay, seeing how the gardener would respond. She offered a nervous smile, and Allura felt her heart melt.

“Understood, Allura.”

That night after Shay finished trimming and watering the flowers, Allura forced herself to go back to her own bed. Lance was as he was before, silent and acting as though she wasn’t there. As she passed him and closed the door to her own room she let herself carefully remove the robe, now with dirt worked unyieldingly into the lace hem. Alone except for her own turbulent thoughts, she bunched the silk up and pressed it into her nose to take in the sweet scent of the flowers and her fleeting memories of their caretaker.

She wormed her way back under the covers with a racing heart, and when she slept again her dreams were marked with flashes of eyes as beautiful as a sunrise and a smile loving enough to sway even the most vicious of men.

In the morning she had a maid come in to prepare her for her day, twittering away about vapid nonsense that went in one ear and out the other. It was not until she saw the girl bring out a pot of the paint her people used in ceremony that she gave pause.

“Where am I going that I need the markings?” The maid didn’t even bother to glance up, using a pale finger to tip Allura’s cheek to the side so she had better light to work with.

“I’m not sure, your Highness. I’m just following orders,” Allura was left to stew about it, pressing her eyes tightly shut as the first cool stroke of the brush hit her skin, working to depict two pink, hook like shapes onto the plains of her cheeks. The makeup was left to dry as she was stuffed into her undergarments, grunting as the servant woman laced up her corset and pulled layers of fabric over her head that would have left anyone less accustomed to such attire sweating and panting for breath. As she finished her crown was nestled into her head of white, which cascaded down her back as always, a few stray strands curling rebelliously to hang around her dark face. Her hair was a quiet reminder of her mother, the closest thing to a ghost of her hanging around the castle. Allura never styled it out of respect.

She was ushered out of her room while Shiro and Keith, two of her other paladins, fell into line a respectable distance behind her. She paid them no heed, striding proudly through the halls of the castle to meet Coran who stood at the end of the hall.

“Princess!” he greeted cheerfully. Allura had lost the good mood the gardener had brought to her the night before somewhere amongst the frivolities she was being forced to participate in, and said nothing in response to emulate her sour mood. Coran appeared to be unfazed, and Allura ignored the prick of irritation she felt at that realization. “Good to see you up and about. Your father has invited the Daibazaalian royals over to discuss your engagement.” Allura’s mood plummeted further.

“I see,” she responded. Her words weren’t strictly angry, she knew she really didn’t have much right to be, but they definitely had an edge that would cut with very little provocation. “When am I expected to show?” Her eyes crawled over the markings Coran had on his own cheeks. A gesture of respect for whatever situation someone was in, showing the assembled were taking things seriously. His response was an unwanted revelation.

“As quickly as possible, princess.” Allura’s mouth pinched, and she lifted her skirts up to walk faster.

“Understood,” she grumbled, not fazed by the pain her heels caused. She’d long since gotten used to such an ailment. She stormed into the room, to the point where she forced Keith and Shiro to walk a little faster to keep up. Zarkon, Lotor, and her own father were already seated.

“Allura!” Alfor greeted cheerfully. “Wonderful to see you. Take a seat.” He remained nonplussed by her mood for the most part, though Allura didn’t miss the warning look he shot her out of the corner of his eye. She paid it no mind. Her father glanced to Zarkon, someone Allura was aware he considered a close friend. She wouldn’t meet Lotor’s eyes, staring pointedly at the table.

“So, the engagement. In a little under a fortnight, I think we should announce it to the kingdom.” Lotor laughed a little, making Allura’s neck snapped up, aggravating the soreness left from doing the same thing the night previous.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded to know. Lotor laughed again, only serving to further infuriate her. Her apparent fiance gestured to their fathers.

“I didn’t realize Coran and your father were so close is all.” Allura scowled.

“Not funny Lotor.” He held out his hands in a placating motion, though his lips were still curled in a sort of smirk.

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t realize it was such a sensitive subject. Anyways, why were we invited to discuss your wedding?” Alfor looked to Zarkon incredulously.

“Zarkon, is there something you have yet to discuss with your son?”  
Zarkon looked equally unprepared, and shifted nervously in his seat.

“Honerva said she took care of it,” he explained weakly. Allura lit up like a fuse, rising to her feet with the bottled up anger she’d been feeling ever since Coran had first announced their engagement.

“We’re getting engaged!” she exploded, her voice echoing around the room in a wroth, sharp ricochet. “We’re apparently engaged, and there’s nothing in the world we can do about it.” She was tired of sitting and letting it be discussed. No matter how much she understood the reasoning behind the decision, she hated it. “I may not be able to do anything about it, but I’m not just going to sit around and talk about it. If I’m being forced into this, I won’t have anything to do in its orchestration. Tell me what to wear and how to smile when it’s announced, I want no part of it. Thank you, and I’ll kindly see myself out,” she finished, voice grown low as her breath ran out. She stomped out furiously, Lotor’s cries of indignance and crashes being heard from inside the room being presumably what kept her paladins from following her. She broke into a sprint down the hallway, and after stumbling over her heels decided to leave them altogether. Somehow she managed to make her way back to the garden, sniffling by the time she got there.

Allura flung herself down onto the bench, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands like a child. She wanted nothing more than to run away from the whole ordeal, to act like nothing was wrong and she wasn’t about to be married off to Lotor, who had more interest in counting blades of grass than romance. She was just as distraught as the night before, but this time she had none of the balmera’s light to comfort her. Also like the night before, she was too lost in her thoughts to notice the soft, steady footfalls drawing close to her haven. A soft gasp drew her attention, sitting up ramrod straight on instinct and schooling her voice to sound collected.

“Who is there?” she demanded to know, commanding and authoritative in all of her mannerisms. A face with the same topaz eyes she spent the latter half of the night dreaming of poked around the corner.

“My apologies, your Highness,” Shay was quick to say. “I’ll go, forgive me for interrupting.” She __spun, but this time Allura expected her to scurry away.

“Wait!” she called out, hiking up her skirt and chasing after her. “Don’t go!” She ran around the hedgerow, only to literally smack into the gardener. She was thrown off balance in the tangle of her dress, but strong arms were quick to latch around her waist, pressing her against the peasant girl’s chest.

“Are you alright, your Highness?” Allura swallowed thickly, trying to formulate thoughts beyond wonder at how very strong the girl was, and the fact that her skin a scarce few shades lighter than her own had freaking freckles, now able to be seen in the sunlight.

“F-fine,” she managed to stutter out, wishing desperately it were night so the rising heat to her cheeks wouldn’t be so very obvious. Shay carried her like she was light as a feather, one of her arms sliding up to her midback and the other tucked under her knees bridal style. Allura had never been one to be a damsel in distress, but she thought she might not mind falling more if this girl was there to catch her. “And I told you to call me Allura,” she chastised her lightly as she was set back down on the bench. Shay nodded.

“Allura, sorry. My bad. I am very sorry for interrupting you again, prince--Allura. I was just, well, I didn’t know if I would see you again. On the chance that you would come back here I had something made for you, as an apology. But it is silly! I am sorry for disturbing your time here.” Shay wouldn’t meet her eyes, looking ready to be berated for her actions. Allura, however, had stars shining in her eyes. The cute gardener had made her a gift. A gift from a literal angel. She shook her head a little. No, now was not the time for such thoughts, nor for Shay’s misplaced apologies.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Could I see your gift, though? I’m sure it’s not silly at all.” Shay continued to look skittish, but nodded.

“Of course. I will go get it, I will be be back in a moment.” Allura watched her wander off, a wan breath escaping her lips as she pressed a hand to her heart when the gardener was out of view. Honestly, this girl was going to be the death of her. Not only was she the most beautiful creature Allura had ever seen, she had the personality to match. The princess felt safe around her, felt like she could be at ease rather than having to putz around with the drivel of formalities. When Shay returned she held something behind her back.

“If you don’t mind, could you close your eyes?” she asked. Allura didn’t bother questioning the request, and merely nodded.

“Of course,” came her breathless reply, flustered by Shay’s presence alone. She held her hands out, but her lips parted in surprise as she felt something settle atop her head instead. Shay carefully pulled her to her feet, and Allura felt herself leaning into the warm touch as her feet moved to wherever the peasant girl was taking her. When a quiet, honeyed voice whispered into her ear that she could open her eyes, Allura didn’t hesitate.

A hand flew up to her mouth as she stared at her reflection in the fountain, or more accurately what had been added that made it so remarkable. Atop her head sat a wreath of blossoms, made of the balmera flowers. Shay’s deft, skilled hands had woven the stems and petals together to make a garland of almost ethereal quality. It sat perfectly on her head, and the blue of the flowers matched perfectly with her eyes. She’d never seen one so exquisitely made, since the balmera was such a fragile flower.

“How did you do this?” she asked, gingerly touching it. She was a little afraid that if she wasn’t careful, the whole thing would crumble to dust in her hands. “It’s absolutely exquisite, especially how well it’s preserved. All of the other one’s wilt within a couple hours of being made.” Shay shrugged, blushing a little and rubbing the back of her neck with one of her wide hands.

“I just pick up a little of this and that, from working the gardens. You like it?” Allura scoffed.

“Like is an understatement. I love it! It’s gorgeous, Shay.” Her eyes went to her, shining in her excitement. The gardener fiddled with her dress, so very plain in comparison to the silk and tulle of Allura’s. At once the princess felt self conscious. What did Shay think of her, dressed so lavishly for something like taking a stroll around the gardens? She blushed a little more, averting her eyes like Shay was. The pair was like that, blushing and fallen into an awkward silence when one of her paladins stumbled in. Allura’s glare could’ve cut through diamond as she whirled to face Hunk, who put his hands up defensively.

“Sorry! I--oh, hey Shay--just came to find you. The king is worried.” Allura sighed, straightening up while her eye twitched a little in irritation.

“I see.” She looked back to Shay, expression softening as she stared at her. “I hate to cut our time short, but I did leave my father on bad terms. Until next time, and thank you for the crown.” Allura waved goodbye, and then hurried after Hunk. She was careful to hold to her crown, being sure it didn’t fall off. She wasn’t about to let all of Shay’s hard work go to waste. As they walked back inside the castle it was mostly silent between the two of them, mostly because Allura was well aware of the fact that she terrified her paladins, as much as they all enjoyed being around her.

“How do you know Shay?” she asked at last, trying to keep her dress from touching the ground. She’d already ruined the robe, her seamstress was going to be angry if she did the same to the dress. Granted, she couldn’t say much about it, but Allura had a healthy respect for the woman who decided just how tight a corset needed to be in order to fit into the dresses she made. Hunk hummed to himself as he appeared to think, the yellow sheath of his sword swinging at his side.

“We run into each other from time to time in town. I do a side thing at the blacksmith’s occasionally, and her brother works with me.” His eyes narrowed a little, and the man’s wide nose wrinkled. “Not a very nice guy. Won’t even try the lunch I bring for him.” Allura nodded. What an atrocious decision, what Shay’s brother decided. Allura preferred Hunk’s cooking to the castle’s cook, if she was honest.

“Good to know,” was all she said in the end, walking along with Hunk leading her until she was deposited into the throne room. Her father stood there, arms crossed and clearly angry.

“What were you thinking?” he asked. His voice wasn’t raised, but that meant nothing. Allura had noticed that when he was most intensely angry he reached a sort of calm. Like a riptide. The sea might be calm, but it would lurk beneath the surface and drag one down mercilessly, resulting in a panic to escape. Allura said nothing. She knew she was being petulant, but she couldn’t shake her anger, the same kind that she knew her father currently felt.

“What were you thinking?” he repeated, striding forward. “Not only did you run off and botch things completely, you left us to deal with Lotor’s tantrum. You couldn’t have thought of a better way to introduce the idea to him? I gave you chance after chance, Allura. Lotor is a perfectly reasonable choice. You like him. Why won’t you go along with this?” Allura felt that same wild anger rising up from within, rearing it’s ugly head with the ferocity of a great beast’s roar.

“Because I don’t want to be married!” she announced, throwing out her arms in exasperation. “Not to a prince! Not to him! Not to anybody I don’t love like that! You got to marry mom because you loved her, why don’t I get that? Just because she’s not here to remind you of that anymore, doesn’t mean you get to force me into procedure you didn’t have to follow.” Allura was livid, and her words were barbed and used to hurt, she wanted them to hurt. She wanted to get a rise out of her father, and faltered when instead she saw his expression crumple painfully. He turned his back to her, collapsing into his throne. Allura hurried forward, thankfully not slowed down by having to lift her skirt now that she was back indoors.

She stood in front of him, feeling incredibly guilty about upsetting him, but not for what was said. It was true, anyways. Her father was loving and she adored him, but he lacked a certain control and refinement her mother had brought to him. He was silent for a long moment, before he looked back to her.

“You’re right,” he admitted at last, looking to her with eyes oh so similar to her own. “You’re right. I shouldn’t expect you to choose someone for political advantage, or force your feelings. If you’re truly opposed, and I can see that you are, I’ll contact Zarkon and tell him the engagement has been canceled. He’s still in the palace, you know. He’s busy trying to calm Lotor down after your outburst. You know how that boy can get.” Allura couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that, raising a hand to her mouth.

“He is a bit headstrong, yes. Those neighboring princesses he’s friends with don’t help either. Honerva always gets up in arms about it.” Alfor nodded, a smile at last brought to his face despite the words Allura had thrown at him earlier.

“I must agree. Strong girls, those princesses. They’ll make wonderful rulers.” He finished with a glance to Allura, or more specifically, her hair. A white haired brow arched, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of her father’s lips.

“So, Allura, where exactly did that crown come from?” The princess flushed, visible despite the markings painted onto her cheeks. Her voice cracked when she spoke, just a little too fast to be normal.

“Oh, this? This is nothing. Just a gift.” She immediately realized the fault in her wording, and her father pounced.

“A gift, from who?” Allura backed away, laughing the laugh of someone who was realizing they needed an out of their current situation, preferably as soon as possible.

“Nobody!” she insisted. “Absolutely nobody. Nothing to worry about. I’ll just, ah, go. Yes, I’ll go. Glad we worked out the engagement!” she called, sidling up to the door. Alfor was grinning from ear to ear, and followed her.

“Allura!” he called, wrapping her up in a hug and swinging her from side to side. “You should’ve mentioned you had a crush! Who is it? Someone I know? That flower crown is beautiful! Such skill!” Allura couldn’t help but smile, despite how she squirmed in her father’s embrace.

“Father! Father, put me down,” she complained, but there wasn’t any bite behind the words. She was content, much happier without the engagement mucking things up.

“Only if you tell me what’s going on,” he replied, pausing his wild swinging for a moment. Allura laughed, out of breath but happy.

“All right, just stop! You’re going to crush the crown,” she ceded finally. Alfor sat her down, staring at her expectantly. Allura pointedly kept her eyes avoided, fiddling with a strand of her long hair.

“It’s just a gardener girl. We met when I went down to look at the balmera. Her name is Shay.” Allura was smiling, a little, secretive thing brought to her face by thoughts of the girl. She didn’t need to look up to know her father was grinning from ear to ear.

“That’s lovely, Allura. So, should I prepare a dowry? I don’t know what her family would prize most but I’m sure I can put something togeth-” Allura’s laughter cut him off.

“I’m not quite ready to get married, father, but thank you for the thought. We’re just friends for now.” Alfor harrumphed, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed his lack of any true anger.

“Very well, very well. But about the dowry-”

“Father.” He sighed, crossing his arms as he pouted.

“I’m sorry, Allura. I’m glad you’ve found your own partner, though. I hope things work out for you.” The princess smiled, reaching up with a fond look to pat at her crown.

“So do I.”

From there, things were peaceful. For the most part, things went back to the old routine. In the morning, tutoring and a stroll through the garden--this time with Shay at her side. In the afternoon, calligraphy and embroidery and everything else that made Allura want to bang her head into the wall, but sometimes she’d spend the lessons making something for Shay in return. Slowly but surely they were coming together and though Allura still never styled her hair, sometimes the odd flowers would be found tucked behind her ear, placed there by a gardener’s hand.


End file.
